I Love Birds

To eat that is. Isn't it great that all we have to do is take a quick trip to the market to satisfy our primal urge to consume fowl? No blade-sharpening, no stalking, no killing, and no feather-stripping required. When I'm really craving a nice piece of a bird I hop in the tan van, my vehicle of choice, and head down to the local supermarket. While basking in the air-conditioned bliss of the poultry section, surrounded by various cuts of multiple species of bird meat, I can't help but marvel at man's mastery of animal domestication. The idea of a supermarket, a place providing almost unlimited food supply and variety where anyone can walk in and buy something they had no part in hunting, killing or preparing is something so profoundly convenient, at times I think it's us humans who are the ones being domesticated. Gone are the days of loin cloths, wooden clubs, thick beards, and the manly anticipation of "The Hunt". Instead I spend most of my waking hours shaved and squatting lifelessly in front of a computer so I can frequent these emporiums of excess.

Here's a collage of photos that depicts a typical preparation of our most coveted feathered friend, the chicken. Before I ate her two breasts, I thanked the hen for sacrificing her own life for the enlargement of my own expanding belly.

Sliding pungent garlic slices into the breasts.

An envious yet powerless domesticated onlooker.

Two tender breasts on the path to perfection.





Top O' The Line Vermont Castings Stainless Steel Grill. Wow.



The cuts caked with salt, crushed black pepper, and oregano. I only flipped each breast once.



As you can probably surmise, these were out of this world. Immediately after I sunk my teeth into the breasts, my taste buds experienced an orgasm - an explosion of hot, garlicky chicken liquid and tender, succulent meat, followed by a fierce, peppery aftermath.

Head on out and get yourself a nice cut of your favorite bird species!